


Aspects of Love

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-25
Updated: 2007-02-25
Packaged: 2019-01-19 07:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12405732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: The wizard world is crushing under the tyranny of the Dark Lord. Harry suddenly finds solace in the most unlikely of sources. R&R. Should be two chapters.





	Aspects of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Aspects of Love**

(The wizard world is crushing under the tyranny of the Dark Lord. Harry suddenly finds solace in the most unlikely of sources. R&R. Should be two chapters.)

Healers hurried past, muttering to themselves about missed appointments and a cure they forgot to do yesterday. Yet Harry paid them no mind. He was striding purposefully down the hall, ignoring hails that were occasionally thrown at him. Some were not so kind.

"Hey, Potter!" He stopped to turn to where the voice was coming from, and started when he saw a man with tentacles growing out of odd places of his body. Biting back a grimace, he gestured with a jerk of his head for the man to continue. Tentacle-man hobbled out, glaring.

"When you gonna find 'im? Eh?" the man demanded, poking Harry in the chest. Harry looked down and then back into the man's cold blue eyes. "It's because of 'im that I'm like this! It's your fault! So you 'ad better look for 'im good, you hear?" At this time a frustrated-looking healer hurried out and dragged him back into the room, shutting the door behind him loudly. Harry sighed and stayed rooted to the spot for a while. What Tentacle-man had said was ringing in his ears. Harry rubbed his tired eyes, which had grown dull and surrounded by a dark shade of black. For the past three years he had been working nonstop...couldn't people see that?! No. They demanded more, more, more! And the ministry had wondered why he hadn't wanted to work for them...one slight slip-up and, well, he might as well be in Azkaban. So he had been working with the Order, tracking and hunting Voldemort unsuccessfully practically around the world. At least there had been one victory, a mere few days ago. They had found the major headquarters for the Death Eaters. He smiled grimly; only five had been captured, and they were unheard of names, merely pawns in the great chessboard that Harry was desperately trying to win. That would at least keep the people happy…for a while….Someone knocked into him roughly, and he turned to see a healer mutter sorry and look up, but when she saw his face her apology faltered.

"Oh," she said coldly, and stalked off, glaring at him. 

Harry resisted the urge to jinx her. He took a deep breath to clear his head and went to the door down the hall. This was the real reason he had come here. Neville had been injured during the raid of the Death Eater's headquarters, and Harry was paying him a customary visit. He smiled slightly; Neville had never faltered when the slang had started. He stood faithfully beside Harry even during Harry's years at school, and for that Harry was extremely grateful. But thankfully Neville wasn't the only one. Harry did have quite a few followers. Aurors had even left the ministry to come and work with the Order. Ron and Hermione had always (Well, most always, thought Harry bitterly) been there for him, too. But currently they were on their honeymoon. Honeymoon. It seemed so strange to Harry that those two had finally realized their true feelings. He thought the day would never come. 

Neville seemed well enough when he visited him, but as soon as the door shut Neville grimaced.

“Loud noises make my head ring,” he explained. Harry nodded and they sat in a silence for a few minutes.

“It’s okay if you talk,” Neville finally muttered. “Just not that loud.”

So they had a whispered conversation for a while until another healer came and sent Harry away, claiming that Mr. Longbottom needed to take his medicine. Harry scowled; he was beginning to seriously dislike healers. He shoved his hands into his deep robe pockets and began to meander aimlessly down the halls, not really wanting to go back to headquarters. Back to more useless leads and angry people and the feeling of overwhelming weariness. He sighed heavily and turned to stare blankly at a sleeping healer in his frame. He felt so…consumed by the task that he had to do. He had tracked down two Horcruxes during these three years, but yet there were more. Always more to do. He wanted a normal life! Not for the first time in his twenty years he bitterly regretted Dumbledore telling him of the prophecy. It was his duty and obligation….

Suddenly a sharp shove interrupted his depressing thoughts. He looked down, scowling, but his expression was replaced with a mild look of surprise. A skinny girl was clinging to him, her eyes wide and terrified. Harry was reminded of Luna. The girl had blonde hair that hung down to her waist, and her eyes were overlarge. But this wasn’t a natural-looking trait. The rest of her face was sunken in, her lips cracked and dry, her wrists and arms bony with her hands rough and calloused. He could see legs like sticks poking out of the bottom of her hospital gown. She was hugging him as if her life depended on it, and a moment later three healers burst into the empty corridor. They spotted the girl and Harry, and a look of bewilderment passed over their stern features for a moment. Harry gingerly took the girl’s coarse hands off of his waist.

“No!” the girl shrieked, clinging to him. “No more!” She was totally delusional. The healers advanced, their wands raised. The girl spotted them and gave a blood-curling scream. She darted behind Harry and gathered his robe in her hands. 

“Er…” Harry said stupidly, unsure of what else to say. 

“’Scuze her, Mr. Potter,” said one of the healers, taking charge of the strange situation. He took a step forward. “She slipped outta the door, so…if you’d step to the side….”

Harry did, and the girl followed him, using him as a shield. The healers encircled them like a pack of wolves. The girl abandoned Harry and made a dash towards the door. Of course one of the healers grabbed her.

“Come on…back to your room…no, don’t fight!” The girl had bitten his hand. Harry really couldn’t help but smile. The situation suddenly seemed so comical…it was a relief to be smiling. But once the healer raised his wand Harry saw the look of unadulterated fear in her eyes.

“Wait….” he muttered, making a start towards them. He knew that kind of fear…she was showing what he had felt countless times…in the Chamber of Secrets…in the graveyard…in the cave with Dumbledore. He knew the feeling, and he despised it. He couldn’t just stand there and let someone else feel the fear alone. The healer was just about to murmur a jinx.

“Wait!” he shouted. He stepped between them. The healer raised an eyebrow and lowered his wand. 

“Something the matter, sir?” he asked warily. Harry turned around to see the girl curled in a ball, shivering. Something suddenly sprang up in his memory….He knelt down beside the girl and studied her intently. He had seen this girl before….He strained his memory and suddenly remembered the raid on the Death Eater’s headquarters. They had found Muggles there…tortured souls…shivering half-naked men, women, and even three children! His blood boiled at the very thought. He had been the one who had found this girl, shivering under a small table, looking absolutely petrified. But he had had to take off, because there had been the sounds of a struggle in the next room. That’s where they had captured the Death Eaters…and Harry hadn’t even given a second thought of this poor Muggle girl. What are the odds? He shook his head and tried to give a friendly smile.

“Mr. Potter…?” one of the healers said. He stood up and faced them.

“Who is this girl?” he asked suddenly. The shrugged their shoulders.

“Just some Muggle…she was found with the others in the headquarters that you attacked last week.”

He ignored a few offensive words in this comment and looked back at the girl, who was rocking back and forth on her heels, muttering to herself.

“No…they won’t come back…Claire! Where did you go…? I…no…they can’t…I didn’t do it! Please!”

She burst into heavy sobs. Harry looked at the healers questioningly. 

“Her brain’s been addled with,” one of them explained. Harry felt something rise in his chest. He knew people whose minds had been damaged beyond repair…by torture. Gritting his teeth he looked down at the girl and saw the same symptoms; the overlarge eyes, the vacant expressions, the sudden emotional swings.

“Will she…recover?” he asked, with surprising difficulty. He had felt something hard rise in his throat. Luckily, they nodded.

“It’s going to be a while,” one of them admitted. “She’s one of the lucky ones, however…some of the Muggles…damaged beyond repair.” Harry’s head felt hot and he clenched his pale hands into tight fists. 

Suddenly his duty didn’t seem so burdensome. 


End file.
